More Monster Than Man
by Erik's Shadow
Summary: New Pen name - I was formerly PhantomCivicChick - I know I haven't updtated in over a year. I'm sorry. Real life happened. But.. hopefully this will make up, and I promise more soon. Thank you for all the positve reviews!
1. So Do You End Your Days With Me...

Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, Christine, Raoul nor any other character from The Phantom of the Opera. They belong to their proper owners. Be it Leroux, Webber, whomever. This is set as the musical ends . but with a new twist!  
  
"Christine!" Erik bellowed.  
  
"You try my patience! Make your choice!" He hissed those final three words. He and Christine stood staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity. Erik started shaking slightly and Christine noticed this. Her powerful, mysterious angel was shaking! Her thoughts flew back to the first time she had seen Erik. The way he appeared in the mirror. He was shaking then, too. Only at that time, she did not know the power she held over him. It rivaled the power he held over her.  
  
Raoul looked on, his life now decided on a single word. "Yes." Who would ever guess that such a common word could mean the difference between life and death? He clawed at the rope strangling him, trying not to flair around, as that only seemed to make things worse for his situation.  
  
"Christine." He muttered  
  
"Erik!" The tears shed from her eyes and she raised her hand to caress his horrific features but she stopped just before she touched him. His half mask had been tossed away what seemed like hours ago. She didn't mean to take it off. His words still echoed in her mind. "Lead me, save me from my solitude." She wanted to show him then. Prove to him then. As he whispered to her "Christine, that's all I ask of-" she leaned into him. Taking hold of his mask to bring him closer to her. But then she saw something she had never seen in his eyes before. Fear! He shot back, and both of them froze momentarily. She looked down and saw the mask in her hand. She looked back up at him, and saw him, pleading with her.  
  
"Why!?" He hissed. He thought she had ripped it off on purpose!  
  
"Erik.. no.. you don't-!"A shot fired, barely missing him.  
  
"ENOUGH!" He yelled as he wrapped his cloak around her and stole her away. Was that towards her, or the marksmen?  
  
She sighed as she returned to thoughts on her decision. She knew her choice. She knew for a long time. She had just been too blind to see! Too scared to admit! She loved Raoul dearly. Her childhood friend was now a handsome young viscount. Who couldn't love him?  
  
She couldn't love him. Not in the way he would want her to. He was like her brother. Unfortunately, he did not see Christine as his sister. She turned towards Raoul, walking slowly towards him. She looked up at his handsome figure, struggling with the rope around his neck. She mouthed the words "Forgive me." She then turned on her heal and shot her eyes through Erik.  
  
"Release him!" Her hands clenched into tiny fists at her side.  
  
"Excuse me?" Erik looked shocked.  
  
"You heard me! Let him down! Release him!"  
  
Erik walked up to her, like a lion stalking his pray.  
  
"How dare you! You are hardly in the position to be making demands, Christine!"  
  
"No!" Christine shouted. "How dare you! How can I be forced to make such a choice!? If I wait too long, it could be too late!"  
  
"Then perhaps it would be best if you hurried up!" He sneered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Erik let him go now!" She paused as he got closer to her and her voice dropped to a whisper "You know my choice, Erik. How can you doubt that? Can't you see!?" Her hands grasped the lapels of his tailcoat. "Please tell me you see!"  
  
"You're lying" Erik shook his head. "How can you-"  
  
"Erik, I'm not lying." She pulled on his lapels, bringing him ever closer to her. She paused for a moment, gazing into his eyes. The same fear that had been in them, as they were on the stage, lingered. But this time, she would not let him pull away. She brought one hand up to his head and brought his face towards hers. Their lips brushed against one another and Erik froze. After a few seconds she pulled away, touched her lips tenderly, then met his lips again. This time Erik responded hungrily.  
  
Raoul watched in horror as a realization hit him. Christine loved The Phantom. Why was he realizing this now? The truth was so obvious, or perhaps because he was close to death. Either way, it was painfully obvious she didn't love him, that's why she asked for forgiveness. 


	2. The Bitter Truth...

Disclaimer: Oh how I love repeating myself. I do not own any character from PotO. They belong to their respective owners. Blah.  
  
  
  
Erik pulled away slowly, shaking his head in complete wonderment and disbelief. He brought his fingers to his lips, still feeling the warmth of Christine's kiss upon them. Tears had surfaced in Christine's eyes, daring to spill over onto her cheeks. Erik stepped back a couple steps, not even attempting to avert his eyes from Christine. Suddenly, a tiny thought nagged at the back of his mind. Slowly he turned his gaze from the angel that stood before him and up at the struggling Viscount. He stalked over to where he hung, removing a candle from a nearby candelabra. He noticed Raoul cringe as he shoved the candle in his face. Then with a flick of his arm, the rope had been burned through and Raoul crumpled to the ground. The Viscount struggled to his feet, rubbing his fingers against his neck.  
  
"Christine?" he gasped, his voice harsh.  
  
"Raoul. I-" She rushed over to him.  
  
"Shh… " He looked from The Phantom then to Christine. "You don't need to say anything." The tone in his voice was slightly bitter, but he didn't mean it to be. It probably just happened of it's own accord.  
  
"It's quite obvious what your choice is. " He smiled weakly, brushing a stray curl from her face.  
  
"I can see it in your eyes, Christine. In a way I knew all along. I have never seen such a look of love in your eyes when we're together, as when you mention him. I-"  
  
Raoul was cut off by the sound of approaching chants and shouts. He had nearly forgotten that the mob of angry opera folk would soon be upon them.  
  
Christine looked up as the voices slowly got louder.  
  
"Raoul, please, let me speak. Raoul, I adore you! But, you're like a brother to-" Raoul cringed at this.  
  
"Please, Christine, don't say anymore. It's bad enough that-" He paused, it would probably not be wise to insult the Phantom anymore. He absently rubbed his hand against his neck again. He took in a deep breath then exhaled. "So. Your choice is final then?"  
  
I know… it's short. I was pressed for time! 


	3. A Shot Is Fired...

Disclaimer: Hey. Guess what. I DO own ALL the characters from PotO. And I give everyone the rights to do ANYTHING they want with them, as long as it involved insulting the Viscount. MWAH HA HA HA! No… I'm kidding.. I don't own them. (Great… my luck I'm gonna get sued.)  
  
Christine took a step away from him, raising her head and staring directly at him.  
  
"Yes Raoul, my choice is final." She nodded slightly, as if confirming it to herself.  
  
"I suppose there's no real point in pleading or arguing?" Raoul inquired. Christine just shook her head. Raoul brought himself up to his full height.  
  
"Well then. I suppose I really have no other option." He reached his hand slowly into his pocket. He gritted his teeth slightly.  
  
"You really should have changed your mind, Christine." Christine looked down at his hand and her hand flew to her mouth.  
  
"Raoul, no!"  
  
But it was too late. The shot was fired. The bullet pierced human flesh. The gun dropped and Raoul looked down at his victim. Crimson red spilled from the wound. Time seemed to freeze. Suddenly Raoul was knocked to the ground with an unimaginable force.  
  
"I should have kept you in that noose, monsieur! Christine!" He knelt down beside her, cradling her against him. Fortunately, the Viscount was a horrid shot, for the wound did not seem mortal, as long as blood lose could be kept under control. He ripped off his tailcoat and tore off a strip of fabric. He tentatively wrapped the dark fabric around her shoulder, never paying heed to the now ruined wedding dress.  
  
"You'll be fine. I promise." Christine just let out a slight groan in response.  
  
Raoul rose to his feet and stumbled towards Erik. Erik heard him coming up behind him, made sure Christine was secure, then rose to his feet as well.  
  
"And you claim to love her, monsieur!?"  
  
"Better that then have her leave me for a monster like you." He stupidly decided to throw caution to the wind this time and insult the Phantom as much as possible.  
  
"Don't be unwise, monsieur." They eyed each other venomously; both of them ready to strike at a mere moment's notice.  
  
"You have her under some sick control! I was forced to do this!"  
  
"Forced to do this!? You're mad!"  
  
"I'm mad? I wasn't the one who-"  
  
A loud splintering crash echoed through the lair. The mob was now upon them.  
  
"Erik!" Christine shouted, the effort of which causing her searing pain. She looked on helplessly as Raoul and Erik readied each other to tear the other apart. She couldn't believe the turn of events that had just occurred. Her "dear" friend had shot her! It then suddenly sunk in that this wasn't the first time she was put in danger at his hand. Just a month or so back, he had downright forced her to star in Erik's opera. The shot from the marksmen on stage this evening rang through her head. Just then another crash was heard. She knew it would only take a few more blows of the ax until the lair was bombarded.  
  
  
  
Ah ha ha ha! Short again! Hehehe 


	4. The Angel's Flee...

Disclaimer –Blah blah blah… yadda yadda yadda… don't own Phantom… *sigh*  
  
Erik looked down at his hands. The blood of his darling Christine were upon them. But it was not he who had spilled her blood. It was that fool boy, acting out of rage and jealousy.  
  
"You're going to get us all killed, now!" He sneered at the Viscount.  
  
"Come, come now, Monsieur." He smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth from where the Phantom had struck him, a hint of madness in his pale blue eyes. "There was a struggle. You grabbed my pistol and fired, not caring whom you shot. Unfortunately, the bullet pierced poor Mademoiselle Daae'." He gestured towards Christine, shrugging it off as if it didn't matter to him. Christine let out a stifled sob in seeing his aloofness.  
  
"You monster" She whispered. "How could you?" Her hand rose up to the makeshift bandage Erik had attentively applied to her shoulder.  
  
"I'm the monster, Christine!?"" He moved to approach her, but Erik blocked his way. "This… this... thing has murdered people!" He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair, trying to keep whatever grasp of reality he had left.  
  
Christine looked up at her angel, but he couldn't look her in the eye. Raoul's statements were true. He had murdered. But, he had never harmed her. He wouldn't even dream of it. His hands were always so gentle, so kind when they regarded her. Perhaps he wasn't the most pristine when it came to obliging society, but he was her dark angel. He loved her more then anything on this very earth. And he would do anything for her. Neither one could take back the past, neither one could bring back Piangi, or Buquet. But she knew that her love would save him. Bring him from his black existence. She knew his hands again, because of her love, would never spill blood. Unless, of course, someone were to harm her. She looked to Raoul as another whack of the ax bombarded the door.  
  
"True. He has killed. But he has never used me as bait in a trap… " She winced, the pain in her shoulder almost blinding. "He never harmed me!"  
  
Raoul lunged for Christine but Erik grabbed him before he even got close. His hands were in a death grip around the Viscount's ruined shirt as he slammed him up against an unyielding drape covered stonewall. Fear etched into Raoul's face as the Phantom's horrid visage loomed over him, unspoken threats gleaming from his mismatched eyes. With a swift jerk of Erik's hands, Raoul's head cracked against the wall and everything went black.  
  
"Erik… no!" Christine reached out.  
  
"I didn't. I know you wouldn't want me to." Erik lowered the unconscious boy to the ground.  
  
  
  
"Though I would gladly, just for what he did to you." He whispered, inaudibly.  
  
  
  
He looked down at his fallen rival for a moment, before returning to Christine's side. The final blow cursed through the lair, as the sound of splintering wood exploded.  
  
"We need to leave… NOW!" He kneeled beside his beloved and took her in his arms. She whimpered softly at the searing pain in her shoulder, but threw her uninjured arm around her angel's neck, pausing to touch his soft dark hair as he lifted her precariously. He made his way through a door that would remain unseen by the untrained eye, but turned to look at the scene they left behind. This would not prove to be good. Christine gone, a missing source of blood, and a unconscious Viscount? He could almost hear the conclusions that would be falsely made. Christine would be assumed kidnapped, possibly dead by the Phantom's hands. Raoul left for dead. No, this was most assuredly not good. Never would they dream that Erik spirited his love away after her charming young man shot her! But he didn't have time to worry about this now. They had to flee. 


	5. Escape to Freedom?

The dark night enveloped the two fleeing shadows as their footsteps echoed carelessly against the alleyway walls. The larger of the two was guiding the smaller one protectively, constantly gazing over the black shoulder. Suddenly the smaller figure stopped, and leaned against the wall in sheer exhaustion.  
  
"Erik... " She whispered, pain seething in her voice.  
  
"I know.... not much longer, I promise. I could carry you?"  
  
"No. no... I think I can make it." She smiled softly up at him, trying to give a sense of bravery.  
  
Erik nodded his response as he looked around. He was thankful the streets were desolate, save for the occasional drunk. In their haste to flee, he had left his mask, hat and cloak behind. He caught the gaze of a man milking a bottle of Absinthe. He saw the young mans eyes grow wide at his passing visage. Perhaps the experience would make him leave the hallucinogenic drink behind. Christine saw the reaction, and reached for Erik's hand, squeezing it gently, assuring him she was there... and would always be there. But this was not the time to contemplate their feelings for one another. That just seemed to be the tip of the iceberg in an unprecedented, uncanny evening.  
  
"Where are we going?" Christine questioned as she gazed over her shoulder to see if she could spy anyone familiar coming after them. To her relief, there was no one.  
  
"A friends..." His footsteps slowed as he approached a tree lined street. He passed a few buildings then came upon a small cast iron gate. He undid the latch and led Christine through. "Although, he will be quite surprised." He approached to the door, and his fingers closed over the ornamental python head knocker. He rapped it three times against the heavy oak door. After what seemed like an eternity, candlelight flickered in the crack beneath the door.  
  
"Who's there?" Came a raspy voice, deep with accent.  
  
"Nadir, please. let us in. It's important"  
  
The door opened to reveal the dark skinned Middle Eastern man, standing there with an uncharacteristic look of shock... and a nightgown.  
"Erik!?" He gazed in horror at the young mademoiselle. "What on earth have you done?" He stepped aside as the disheveled and unmasked Phantom guided an equally disheveled and blood stained Christine into the hallway of Nadir's home.  
  
"There's no time to explain... she's hurt, I need hot water. and towels... a needle and thread." He saw Christine pale. ".and liquor."  
  
Despite his undying desire to ask questions, the former daroga did as he was told with haste after he showed Erik to a spare bedroom where he could take Christine.  
  
After gathering the items, he stepped into the doorway of the room. He could scarcely believe the tender scene before him: Christine, lying on the bed, as Erik sat next to her, holding her hand, assuring her she would be fine. Nadir heard her whisper. "I know your hands.. I know the kindness they can do... how gentle they can be.. I trust you."  
  
Erik looked up as the floorboard creaked. As he got up from the bed, Christine winced from the pain the movement caused. He walked over to Nadir and took the basin of water from him as they both moved back towards the bed. Nadir turned the knob on the gas lamp on a nearby table, illuminating the room instead of the lazy glow it had been in when he entered. As Erik prepared a few things, Nadir handed Christine a glass of brandy. He was about to reassure her, but could tell she didn't need it, Erik seemed to have her full trust and confidence. What on earth was going on?  
  
As Christine sipped the heavy drink, Nadir walked over to Erik.  
"I'll ask you again. what have you done?" He heard Erik heave a heavy sigh and his eyes met his after he finished threading a needle. "Tonight was the gala performance of my Opera. A shame you couldn't attend." He mocked. "It was quite the event." "I'm serious Erik." "So am I. Well... things didn't go exactly to plan." He gazed at Christine. "Not at all in fact. There was a trap to catch me this evening. It obviously failed. I took Christine back down below. Obviously the boy followed." "What did you." She loves me." He didn't look at Nadir, but could feel the shock and disbelief in his eyes. But, for his sake, he figured, Nadir stayed quiet. "The boy didn't take the news to well. He was armed."  
"You're saying the Viscount did this?" "I am." "Is he." "No... there was a small skirmish, but I left the boy relatively unhurt. But the mob that was approaching my home will no doubt guess wrongly at what went on down there." He turned to Christine, whose lids had grown heavy from the alcohol. He approached her, discarding of his torn tailcoat, and rolling up his sleeves. His fingers hesitated over the fabric of the gown, but he soon ignored the nagging feeling in his mind and tore at the fabric covering her shoulder with a knife Nadir had provided. 


End file.
